I AM

“I AM”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #14

 

I am creative and passionate.

I wonder how to be a better writer.

I hear my characters’ voices in my head.

I see their deepest desires and dreams.

I want to do them all justice in my books.

I am creative and passionate.

 

I pretend there are other worlds.

I feel like the ruler of these universes.

I touch and manipulate their lives.

I worry others won’t like my creations.

I cry when I can’t contain my fears.

I am creative and passionate.

 

I understand that I am still learning.

I say with confidence that I’m an author.

I dream about supporting myself on my writing.

I try to reflect and grow every day.

I hope I’m not wasting my time.

I am creative and passionate.

 

***Here’s the I AM Poem Template in case you’d like to write your own I AM Poem:

I am (2 special characteristics you have)

I wonder (something of curiosity)

I hear (an imaginary sound)

I see (an imaginary sight)

I want (an actual desire)

I am (the first line of the poem repeated)

 

I pretend (something you actually pretend to do)

I feel (a feeling about something imaginary)

I touch (an imaginary touch)

I worry (something that bothers you)

I cry (something that makes you sad)

I am (the first line of the poem repeated)

 

I understand (something that is true)

I say (something you believe in)

I dream (something you dream about)

I try (something you really make an effort about)

I hope (something you actually hope for)

I am (the first line of the poem repeated)

IQ

“IQ”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #13

 

Don’t brag about your skill.

You might be good at something

While being awful at others.

There are different types

Of intelligence and each person

Has their own things they rock at.

So instead of comparing abilities,

Why don’t you spend your energy

Pursuing your own talent?

Pursuit

“Pursuit”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #12

 

I’ve been fairly subtle,

Dropping little hints

That we have a lot of

Interests in common.

And you have been

Exceedingly dense.

Or did you notice but

You just don’t like me?

I suck at this so you

Need to step up and

Take the lead or else

At least express your

Complete disinterest.

I’ve chased you as far as

I can manage and I’m done.

The door is still open

But you need to decide if

I’m the woman you want.

Caring for a scary, intense

Woman like me can be a

Rather difficult, I know.

So I understand if that’s

Why you’ve been distant.

However, I also know my

Worth and I deserve to

Be pursue and cherished.

Take a risk and talk to me.

Hunting Slumber

“Hunting Slumber”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #11

 

My body is tired.

But my mind

Just doesn’t care.

I toss about in

Hopes of getting

Comfy enough to

Drift off to slumber.

Fantasies and dreams

Await me but I can’t

Quite reach them.

Hours tick on by.

I check the time

Over and over again.

But sleep continues

To craftily elude me.

Morning finally breaks.

I awake more exhausted

The when I had slumped

Into bed that night.

Don’t Invite Me To Play Pool

“Don’t Invite Me To Play Pool”

–Amy Engle

 

National Poetry Writing Month 2018 Poem #10

 

The cue feels awkward in my hands.

It’s been years since I’ve done this.

I’m nervous under these conditions:

Surrounded by dozens of rough,

Foul-mouthed scoundrel types.

But I’m with my amazing siblings,

Which brings me a level of comfort.

I pass the cue to my brother and let

Him play our sister while I attempt

To remember all the strategies.

Sitting back, I let off a number of

Quick-witted comments to make them

Less embarrassed when they miss.

After several rounds, no one has

Hit anything in, so I tag myself in.

My confident expression is replaced

By uncontrollable laughter as I scratch.

The white ball is retrieved and we

Discuss the proper rules for continuing.

A few rounds later, I scratch once again.

Shaking his head, my brother takes

The cue back and resumes the turn.

We alternating taking missing shots

And then switching in at every scratch.

My sister is the most experienced and

Yet she says that she is out-of-practice.

Nearby players take pity on us three

And teach us some helpful tricks.

Just as I’m about to hit in the last

And final striped ball into a pocket,

The white ball taps in the eight.

A fit of giggles accompany my loss

Before we rack ’em up once again.

Expanding the range of science fiction–one speculation at a time.